Servitude
by Sappy Sucker
Summary: Be it power, love, honor, or vengeance, everyone must serve something. Sophitia, KilikXianghua, SetsukaMitsurugi.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Namco, yadda yadda yadda.

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Chapter One

It was a frigid, stormy November night outside the Valentine estate. The wind whipped against the house and shook the windows violently, while rain poured down like hell fire upon the stoic estate's shingled roof. Within the mansion, Ivy Valentine sat curled up near a blazing fire that roared within a large brick fireplace. Around Ivy were scattered dozens of books, most of them old and tattered and looking as though they had been read thoroughly, perhaps multiple times. Ivy was at the moment furiously flipping through a lengthy book, a frenzied light visible in her blue eyes. But her searching proved to be in vain, for after a moment she sighed and dropped the book from her hands, letting it come to rest upon her bosom.

"What's the use of this all?" Ivy spoke to herself in a thick British accent. "There's nothing useful in these blasted books." As if to demonstrate her point, Ivy kicked a pile of dusty books and watched with some satisfaction as they toppled to the ground.

Outside the mansion, nature's fury began to increase, and the wind whipped against the windows with renewed vigor. Ivy gave an involuntary jolt at the sound then shook her head disapprovingly at her own foolishness. "Look at you, you silly girl. Jumping at the sound of the wind. Time to get a bit of sleep, I believe."

Ivy pushed herself to her feet and stretched out her back with a groan. Still a fairly young woman, she was very tall and wore a small, snug nightgown that showed a good deal of her long legs, as well as a portion of her chest. Ivy's silver hair seemed to shimmer in the firelight, and her fair skin stood out amid the darkness of her study. Her face was beautiful, but almost too stern, as if she constantly had something pressing on her mind.

"Oh… The bedroom is too far away," Ivy said with a yawn as she dragged herself over to a velvet couch pushed up against a row of book cases and flopped down upon the furniture. No sooner had Ivy closed her eyes than she heard a deep, gravely voice that had become all too familiar to her.

"Still searching for power within books? My daughter, you disappoint me."

Ivy's eyes snapped open and she was up in an instant, grasping around her for the comforting feel of her sword hilt. Not finding it anywhere around her, Ivy slowly looked up at her father, her body suddenly gripped by a paralyzing fear.

"Looking for that irritating little blade of yours?" Ivy's father said maliciously. "Well, look no further." And the dread pirate Cervantes emerged from the shadows, carrying Ivy's faithful sword Valentine in one hand, while in the other he gripped a sinister blade that could only be his own weapon. "This blade has caused me great trouble in the past. I'm ending that now!" With those words, Cervantes sent a jolt of some dark, unknown energy shooting through his hand, and Ivy's weapon exploded into a thousand shards.

"You- you've grown more powerful… Than ever before," Ivy managed to stammer. Her blue eyes were locked onto those of her ghoulish father, and she could not look away from his pure white eyes or his, gray, dead skin.

"You know what I'm here for, my child," Cervantes spoke with murderous intent. "Your soul is rich and sweet, and it calls to me. But before I feast upon you, you will tell me all you know about Soul Edge."

"You know you will get nothing from me," Ivy forced herself to say, but she regretted the words as they were still leaving her mouth. "There must be a way out of this. I've always escaped him. I can't die now! Not when he's so powerful!" She frantically thought, her mind beginning to panic.

"So be it," Cervantes said, his face splitting into a grin of twisted anticipation. From his belt he drew a long curved dagger, with a muzzle located just beneath the blade and a trigger hidden near the top of the hilt. "You have always been a useless daughter, now I will finally be through with you."

"No!" Ivy screamed, and Cervantes hesitated, raising an eyebrow quizzically at his daughter. "I-" Ivy's breath came in deep, panicked gasps, her mind working furiously for something, anything, that could help her escape the fate that she had long feared was awaiting her. "No! I won't!"

"I grow tired of this!" Cervantes shouted suddenly, then he lunged forward and drove his dagger deep into Ivy's chest. Her shriek was cut off abruptly as the blade hit home, and she took several slow, staggering steps forward, her blue eyes bulging from pain and terror while shallow, wordless gasps emitted from her open mouth.

"What's that, my daughter?" Cervantes richly laughed. "You look as though you have something to say. Too late!" The dread pirate grasped the handle of the dagger still imbedded in Ivy's chest and pulled its trigger. The sound of a muffled gunshot cracked loudly, and Ivy's whole body gave a violent jolt. Cervantes pulled his blade back out of his dying daughter's chest, and Ivy's hands moved slowly and shakily to the gaping wound in her body. She looked up one last time at her father, and her fading blue eyes met with his white, merciless ones. Then Ivy dropped to her knees before finally slouching over dead.

Cervantes felt his daughter's life fade, followed by her soul leaving that now lifeless form and beginning its ascent to the heavens. But the soul of Ivy did not get far before Cervantes reached out with his power, his insatiable hunger, and sucked Ivy's soul back to him. After consuming so many souls during his service to Soul Edge and in the years after, when he had been reborn as something far worse than a man, Cervantes had begun to understand what souls felt, what they were saying in the moments before he consumed them and even after. With Ivy he heard something he had never heard before; an innocent young girl, crying out to her father after she had misbehaved, asking for forgiveness, begging not to be punished. Cervantes grinned, then consumed her soul and fed it to his own black, twisted soul. Within his soul he could still here hers, screaming and wailing at the eternal torment it now faced. "Welcome to hell, my daughter."

His awful deed done, the dread pirate moved to a large, ornate desk on which sat a single piece of yellow, tattered paper. Cervantes picked up the document and read it quickly before speaking to himself. "Ah, so you did find something interesting. Yes… This explains everything. Why my Soul Edge left me, and what I must do… Yes… I would thank you, my daughter, but it seems the time for that seems to have passed!" And with that the dread pirate was gone, sailing back out onto the high seas where his rule was absolute.

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Sophitia Alexandra had long known of the evil that lay within Ostrheinsburg Castle, but it was not until now, as she walked within its walls, that she realized how deep the cursed castle's evil ran. The inner courtyard in which she stood looked normal enough at first glance, but closer inspection revealed the grass and shrubbery to be an unusually dark shade of green, almost as though the vegetation was filled with some dark liquid. Sophitia shuddered and shook the image from her mind then hurriedly crossed the courtyard, making for a large wooden door that stood at the yard's far end. Upon reaching it she quickly jerked the door open and bolted inside, letting it slam shut behind her with a loud bang. She winced at the sound, then surveyed the passageway before her with some apprehension. It was long and dark, illuminated only by dully burning torches set at irregular intervals along the passageway's gray stone walls.

Every instict in Sophitia's body told her to turn tail and flee, to forget this mad idea that had taken ahold of her mind and return to her home in Athens. "No… I have to do this, for Pyrrha," Sophitia said aloud. Drawing the short sword and shield that were strapped to her belt, she walked slowly down the dimly lit passageway while fear and a growing sense of guilt gnawed at her mind.

Against the darkness and shadows surrounding her, Sophitia appeared as though she were a shining goddess. She wore a short, white skirt and a sleeveless blouse with an elegant silver belt encrusted with many large sapphire gems. A necklace with a blue gem in its center hung around her neck and served to accentuate her light blue eyes, while on her wrists and shoulders were small sections of silver and blue armor. Athenian-style sandals covered her feet and lower legs. Sophitia's hair was golden-blonde and braided, and fell almost to her waist. She had fair skin and a shapely, hour-glass figure despite the children she had borne. In all ways she appeared to be a holy warrior, though at that moment she felt doubt as she never had before.

Shaking off her negative emotions, Sophitia continued down the passageway. As she was reaching the end of the corridor, the sounds of running feet reached Sophitia's ears, and so she quietly snuck to the end of the passageway and peered out into the room beyond. To her immediate right was a large staircase that led up to a well-lit landing. Beyond that Sophitia did not see, for from her left came the sounds of many pairs of heavy feet all running at full speed towards her. Sophitia turned quickly to see what was approaching, but she could not have been prepared for what greeted her eyes; no less than forty man-sized lizards, all standing on two feet and holding grizzly axes and razor-edged shields. The majority of them were various shades of red, green, and brown, but the lizard at the forefront of the pack was dark gray with red warpaint streaked across his face and chest, and it was obvious he was the leader of the pack.

Sophitia suppressed a yelp as she ducked back inside the dark corridor and pressed her back up against its stone wall. As the lizards charged past her and up the staircase, oblivious to Sophitia's presence, she thought over what she had felt when she looked the leader of these lizard-men. "Aeon Calcos," Sophitia thought after a moment. "The warrior of Hephaestus who never returned after we were sent out. I had heard he was transformed by some evil power, but I never imagined… I have to save him if I can. It's not what I came here for, but if I am able to, I will."

Sophitia's thought were interrupted when a deep, almost inhuman voice shouted, "Worthless curs! They come for Soul Edge!"

"Soul Edge? It is here!" Sophitia exclaimed. "I have to stop these beasts at now!" The Greek Warrior moved quickly from her hiding place and up the stairs, following the lizard-mens trail. As she hurried up the stairs, a lizard-man in the rear of the pack spotted her and roared to its bretheren. In respond to its call, two lizard-men detatched from the group and descended towards Sophitia, roaring and gnashing their teeth menacingly.

"Okay, here we go!" Sophitia cried out as her aggressors approached. The first lizard-man attacked, raising his axe up in the air before driving it down hard on Sophitia's head. She raised her shield and the blow glanced off of it, then quickly followed by kicking the lizard hard in his leg as he was still recovering from his attack and slicing her short sword across her opponent's neck as he dropped to his knees. Blood gushed forth from the fatal wound, some of it splashing against Sophitia's blouse and tainting the pure white material with dark blood. The second lizard man screached in rage as his comrade slumped dead on the stairs, then swung his axe horizontally with all the might in his powerful body. Easily ducking the blow, Sophitia crouched low under her enemy's legs, then drove herself upwards, flipping the lizard-man over her back and sending him crashing down the flight of stairs with many painful noises. The monster finally landed on the floor head-first with a cracking sound that could only mean his neck had snapped. "I'm sorry, but it's the only way," Sophitia remorsefully addressed her dead foes and she continued up the staircase, pausing on the landing to listen for the sounds of battle.

"Aha, come to axe you worms!" The same voice that Sophitia had heard earlier came again, this time accompanied by various crunching noises and the sound of lizard-men screaming. Sophitia hurried off down the corridor from which the noise was emanating, stopping dead when she suddenly found herself facing a wall of lizard-men. Fortunately for Sophitia, the beasts were preoccupied with something in front of them, and so the Greek Warrior was able to cut down four of the monsters before they even took notice of her, leaving Sophitia to face the two lizard-men left in this group. But as she was about to engage her enemies, a huge axe swept through the beasts, cleaving them both in two.

"What?!" Sophitia exclaimed, as she suddenly found herself facing a giant being who seemed to be made out of stone, with small rivers of lava coursing through his rock-like body. The hulking monstrosity's head, arms, and legs were all covered in purple armor, and he wielded a monstrous axe that was made out of the same substance as he himself was, except his weapon was razor-sharp at its edge.

"You too come for Soul Edge?" The monster bellowed. "Time to die!"

"No!" Sophitia cried. "I come to he-"But the Greek Warrior was unable to finish her words, for she suddenly had to dodge to the right as the behemoth smashed his axe into the ground where she had been standing a moment ago. "Please, I don't want to fight you."

"I'll crush you!" The monster guturally roared as he swung his axe again, this time aiming for Sophitia's long legs. She easily jumped the blow and the axe crashed into the nearest wall, becoming lodged deep within the stone surface. As the monster was attempting to dislodge his weapon, Sophitia ran and leapt at her foe, smashing him in the face with her strong metal shield. The giant released his grip on the axe and clutched at his face, giving Sophitia time to strike again, this time by slamming her shield into the giant's right leg and dropping him to his knees. Before her opponent could recover, Sophitia raised her sword and touched it to the behemoth's neck, and he froze in place.

"Now, tell me where I can find Soul Edge," Sophitia said, putting a bit of pressure against the monster's neck to accentuate her point.

Silence pervaded for several moments as both combatants stared one another in the eyes, each trying to decipher just what the other was. Finally the monster let out a guttural laugh and spoke. "So you want to find the sword, little warrior? You don't look like you're wanting to destroy it, but I expect your type usually does."

"Tell me now, if you don't mind," Sophitia sternly said, pushing her blade firmly against the giant's neck until the pain caused him to grunt.

"Fine," The giant said with a look of pure hate in his yellow eyes. "Go until you find a big staircase, then go up and you'll find him."

"The azure knight?" Sophitia asked in a hushed voice.

The giant gave a deep, rumbling laugh. "He'll have your soul for breakfast, worm."

In response to this Sophitia smashed her shield into the side of the giant's skull with all her might. The monster slumped over unconcious, and the Greek Warrior quickly hopped over her fallen foe's hulking form and took off down the passageway at a sprint. She passed several small, dimly lit rooms which were strewn with the corspes of lizard-men, their bodies hacked, mangled, and torn into bloody pieces. Sophitia soon located the staircase that the giant had spoken of and began ascending it with great haste, her heart pounding in her chest and her ears ringing with the sounds of combat that issued forth from above her.

When Sophitia finally reached the top of the lengthy staircase, she saw immediately in front of her a lofty chamber with a high ceiling, from which hung a chandelier whose numerous candles illuminated the great space, while on the finely-carpeted floor of this chamber a great battle raged. From what Sophitia could tell, the battle consisted of all the remaining lizard-men – about twenty strong – versus two extremely skilled combatants. The first of these combatants was a bizarre-looking man whose body was mostly wrapped in bandages, and where there were no bandages his skin was covered with dark, sinister tattoos. He wielded two weapons that were fashioned to look like the claws of a bear, and as he fought his body twisted and contorted itself into poses one would expect of a gymnast. The second warrior was a girl of no more than seventeen-years-old, who had long dark hair tied into several girlish ponytails and unusual, purple eyes. Her clothes looked to be those of a court jester save for their blood red color and rather permiscuous design. The girl wielded a very unique weapon; a large, extremely sharp ring blade, which she spun around gracefully as she fought.

Sophitia's eyes widened a bit as she caught sight of this girl, Tira, for the Greek Warrior knew her all too well. Memories flashed through Sophitia's mind of the girl coming to her as she prayed in the temple dedicated to Hephaestus and trying to murder her. Of how once Tira had been defeated, she fled while saying that Sophitia should 'take better care of her kids,' as the girl put it. Sophitia realized that she should thank Tira for her warning, despite the girl obviously being a servant of evil. Then Sophitia snapped out of her daze and saw that Tira and her peculiar ally were being overwhelmed by the lizard-men. "Am I really about to do this?" Sophitia thought. "If I do this, I am helping what I have vowed to fight to my dying breath. No… I may have vowed to fight Soul Edge, but there is one vow that comes even before that. The vow of a mother." Sophitia took one last, deep breath, and then charged headlong into the maelstrom of battle.

She hit the first lizard and stabbed it clean through the heart, then withdrew her weapon and cut another of her foes across its neck. Soon she lost herself in a flurry of attacks, parries, and counterattacks, with blood splashing everywhere and coloring her skin and clothes a crimson color.

Suddenly the only combatants left standing were her, Tira, the girl's strange ally, and Aeon Calcos, the Greek warrior turned foul creature. "Aeon, I know who you truly are!" Sophitia called to the beast. "Put down your weapons, return to the peaceful ways you once followed!"

The lizard-man heard these words and stared blankly at Sophitia with its reptilian eyes, though it was impossible to tell if the creature was actually thinking rationally or just contemplating how to best kill its opponent. Sophitia readied herself to begin battle with the beast when a demonic, ear-splitting roar erupted from the overhang above the fighters.

"Master!" Tira screamed, while the bizarre man fell to the ground and prostrated himself before the balcony. Then a shadowy, heavily-armored figure that could only be the azure knight emerged onto the overhang, carrying with him the object of Sophitia's long search: Soul Edge. The sword – if it could be called that – was massive, almost as tall as Sophitia and much wider. It blazed orange as if from some inner fire, and it was formed from some unholy bond of steel and flesh. From the base of the sword jutted out many jagged points, and in its center to was a great flaming eye. As Sophitia stood transfixed by the sword, the red eye spotted her and blazed with a fierce fire.

"Worthless fools! You let my mortal enemy come so near to me?!" Nightmare bellowed in a voice that Sophitia could only describe as pure evil. "Soul Edge does not forget those who have brought harm upon it!"

Sophitia took an involuntary step back as Tira and Nightmare's other servant turned to face her with malicious intent plain on their faces. "Soul Edge… It remembers when I destroyed its other half four years ago…" Sophitia frantically thought. She quickly dropped her sword and shield to the ground and knelt down on one knee as Tira and her ally approached her with murderous desires, urged on by their dark master. "I regret my actions!" Sophitia forced herself tp cry out. "I come to serve Soul Edge and protect it! I will help it grow in strength and souls! Please listen to me, Lord Nightmare!"

Despite her words, Nightmare remained silent as his two servants rushed towards the Sophitia, who still knelt defenseless before them. The bizarre, bandage-wrapped man reach Sophitia first and was about to deal a finishing blow to the Athenian when an axe came down on the man's head, splitting it in two. Sophitia looked up to see Aeon Calcos wrenching his weapon back out of the dead man's skull and turning to defend Sophitia from any attackers. Tira saw this and took a step back from the lizard-man, practically hissing at the creature before her.

"Hold!" The azure knight again called from above. "I have just lost a servant, and you look to be far more valuable than that pathetic mortal ever could have been, Warrior of Light. You destroyed the weaker half of me in the past, so if you are truly changed, you may be worthy to become my slave."

"Please, azure knight, I wish nothing more!" Sophitia begged, while inside her heart tore itself apart.

"So be it," Nightmare spoke. "Kill this pitiful creature that thinks it is defending you, and I will allow you to serve my power."

Very slowly, Sophitia took her sword and shield in hand and got to her feet. "Aeon," She softly said, and the lizard-man spun to face her. "I know you're confused, I know you want to be human again. I can help you." Sophitia stepped close to the creature and pressed her body tightly against his, whispered a barely audible, "I'm so sorry," Then brought her sword up behind Aeon's head and quickly pulled herself away, sweeping the blade straight through the lizard-man's neck and sending his headless body crashing to the ground while blood sprayed everywhere. Sophitia threw her weapons aside and bowed her head before the azure knight. "It is done, my lord."

Without a word Nightmare stepped up to the edge of the overhang and then dropped from it, quickly falling twenty feet to the ground and landing with a crash that sent stone flying into the air and left a deep impact crater where the demon had landed. Without a single sign that he had felt any pain, the azure knight strode quickly forward towards his soon-to-be servant. As he approached Sophitia saw that all the hushed descriptions of this awesome creature were true. The dark blue suit of armor, the glowing red eyes, the leathery brown skin, the massive, deformed right arm, the jaws and swirling souls in place of his stomach, the legendary sword he carried with his left arm. It was all there, and as Sophitia beheld it she loathed every fiber in her body for what she had just done, and what she was now about to do.

"Be still," Nightmare commanded as he arrived in front of Sophitia. She went rigid as a board, and the azure knight reached out with his monstrous right arm and touched it against Sophitia's pale face. As he did so Sophitia had to swallow to keep herself from screaming; Nightmare's mere touch sent terrible emotions coursing through Sophitia's body. She saw memories in her mind that were not her own; men rushed to their deaths, villages burned, women and children lay butchered. Sophitia let out an involuntary shudder as Nightmare finally drew his arm back and allowed the Athenian her regain control of her own being. "Kneel." Sophitia dropped to her knees without a second thought and prostrated herself before her new master. "Who do you serve, human?"

Sophitia squeezed her eyes shut and forced herself to utter the words she had never imagined she would here herself speak. "I serve Nightmare. I serve the azure knight. I serve Soul Edge."

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Chapter two coming soon! It will introduce the "good" characters, and then I'll get on with the story and such. Reviews would be greatly appreciated!


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: See first chapter.

Chapter Two

Underneath heavy rain clouds and a dark sky, the Japanese seaport of Osaka bustled with life. Along the major streets hawkers called out their wares to the crowds pushing their way hurriedly along, while through the side alleys people darted back and forth, glancing behind their backs as they hurried to reach the safety of their homes. All throughout the town there was an almost tangible air of unease, though no one would openly say what was causing this discomfort.

There was, however, one person amongst the crowds who appeared to be quite calm and unaffected by the atmosphere around her. In fact this woman, Setsuka, stuck out from the crowd in more ways than one. Whereas the great majority of the people here were short and Japanese with tan skin and black hair, Setsuka had fair, Caucasian skin, long blonde hair held together in a Japanese-style bun, and stood a head taller than the rest of the people in the milling crowds. The very way in which she dressed was different as well; her elegant kimono - patterned in shades of pink and white with small flowers sewed into its design – made a stark contrast with the plain, everyday work-wear of the common Japanese villager.

Setsuka's striking appearance drew a number of different reactions from the villagers. Many, perhaps the majority even, looked on her with a certain amount of disdain, as though they were disgraced to see a foreigner dressing as one of them. Setsuka did receive the occasional friendly smile or polite greeting from the obviously more educated and accepting villagers. And of course their were more than a few young men who stared open-mouthed at Setsuka's beautiful face, which smiled at its edges yet at the same time looked somehow sad.

As she strolled along the road, impervious to the glares and stares of the people around her, she felt a drop of rain land on her shoulder and looked up at the sky only to have another drop splash against her cheek. Laughing softly, Setsuka took the pink and white flowered, Japanese-style umbrella which had been tied against her back and opened it just as a downpour of rain hit Osaka. Yelps of surprise sounded around her as people ran for cover, many of them knocking each other down in their flight for shelter. Setsuka walked on, safe from the rain under her umbrella, until she came upon a small Japanese child standing in the middle of the road with his head hanging down, accepting the rain as it pelted his small body.

She continued her slow, delicate walk until she reached the child and stood above him, shielding the child from the rain with her umbrella. Looking downward, Setsuka saw her own feet, which were comfortable and dry atop wooden platform sandals, then the child's bare and blistered feet, and painful memories panged through her mind, memories of a time when she was the one walking barefoot through the streets, shunned by those who could have offered her help.

"Tell me little one," Setsuka said firmly, putting a hand on the child's head. "Do you know where I could find the Yakuza?"

The child recoiled at Setsuka's words, falling down into the street and then crawling away from the woman as swiftly as his little body could carry him. Meanwhile several villagers who had taken refuge in a nearby overhang gasped in shock, as though they could not believe their ears. "What do you think you're doing?" One of them hissed. "Do not speak of such things ever again."

"Do any of you know I could find the Yakuza?" Setsuka repeated herself, this time quite loudly. She stood silently patiently for several moments while rain splashed against the buildings and stone roads. Then a door banged open somewhere to Setsuka's right, and she spun around to see a man dressed in red and black stalking towards her, a long dagger in his hand.

"So, someone wants to find the Yakuza," The man said as he approached. He looked at Setsuka through the rain and then shouted, "A gaijin?! Ha, you have a death wish, gaijin?"

Long ago, the word gaijin, a derogatory term for a foreigner in Japan, would have stung Setsuka to her core. Now it did not even prick her armor. "I see the Yakuza's grip on this town is as tight as I've been told," She responded calmly. "I would like to meet with your leader. I must ask him something."

"When you talk to a Yakuza like that, the penalty is death!" The Yakuza charged at Setsuka, his eyes wild and his dagger poised to kill, but she turned sideways and thrust her leg outwards, catching the man hard in the stomach with her hard wooden sandal. As the gang member gasped for breath Setsuka spun in a circle, her kimono flapping elegantly around her, and delivered another platform sandaled kick, this one to the side of the Yakuza's head. He dropped like a sack, his dagger falling free then clanging against the ground.

Setsuka bent down and picked the blade up, then gently tapped its tip against the downed man's neck. "As I was saying, I would like to meet with your leader. Now, preferably."

"O- Okay," The Yakuza member mumbled, and Setsuka realized he was sobbing. "Just don't kill me." He got shakily to his feet, one side of his face stained by tears and the other by blood. Setsuka noted that several of the man's teeth were still on the ground where he had fallen. Another prod from the dagger motivated the defeated man to move. "I… I'll show you."

Setsuka's reluctant guide led her several blocks in the direction of the seaport, standing just outside the shelter of the woman's umbrella with his own knife pressed against the back of his neck. Just before they reached the port the Yakuza stopped short, as though he was physically incapable of proceeding any further.

"Are we there?" Setsuka asked skeptically.

"No… The boss is in a building disguised as fish shop," The gang member said.

"Well then take me there," Setsuka ordered. She pushed the blade up against the Yakuza's neck, this time hard enough that he cried out in pain.

"Please! I can't be seen there!" He said pleadingly once Setsuka had relaxed her merciless grip on the knife. "I'm dead if they see me leading someone to their base."

"And you're dead if you don't lead me to their base," Setsuka stated calmly. "Might as well help me and buy yourself a few more seconds of life."

Cursing under his breath, the Yakuza dragged himself around the corner and into the dark, dreary seaport, which was currently devoid of any human activity despite the multitude of ships docked in its harbor.

"There's the base." The Yakuza whispered, inclining his head to the right. Setsuka followed his gesture with her eyes and saw a traditional one-story Japanese fish shop. Nothing looked suspicious at first glance, although there was a cloaked figure standing casually outside the front door of the building who Setsuka could swear was watching her and her unwilling accomplice.

Setsuka lowered her knife so it was now jabbing the Yakuza in the small of his back and pulled him into the refuge of her umbrella. "Stay in front of me."

Together they strolled over towards the fish shop until stood almost in front of the cloaked guard. He surveyed them both suspiciously for a moment, then laughed smugly and said, "You know you're not supposed to come around here, Tokugo, even if you have a wh-" The man's sentence ended in a variety of bloody gurgling noises, for Setsuka whipped her knife around in the blink of an eye and jammed deep into his Adam's apple. The guard collapsed dead to the ground, and Setsuka patted her captive Yakuza on his head as someone would pet a dog.

"For a stupid gang-banger, you've done pretty well," She said. "I was originally going to kill you, but you've changed my mind. Go on, leave."

As the now-former Yakuza tore off and away from Setsuka, thanking the heavens above that he still drew breath, she opened the door to the fish shop and stepped nonchalantly inside.

"We're closed, can't you tell?" A gruff voice barked as the door was still closing behind Setsuka, and a burly Japanese man with dark stubble on his face emerged from a back room of the shop.

"I didn't know the Yakuza could close," Setsuka said.

"Wait… Where's Hideo?" The man asked grimly.

"You mean the guard out there?" Setsuka said. "He tripped and his neck fell on a knife. You could have a similar accident if you don't tell me where your boss is, Yakuza."

"You bitch," The Yakuza barked furiously. "Ichiro, Yame, get up here. We have a bitch who needs to learn her place." Two more burly men appeared in the shop, these two both armed with short katanas. "Try not to kill her. She'd be fun to torture."

Setsuka closed her umbrella and held it at her side in her left hand, then untied the top half of her kimono and pulled her right arm free of it, leaving the sleeve hanging limply to the side and showing her tight corset and a significant amount of cleavage. The two Yakuza members encircled her, muttering threats of unspeakable violence under their breath. Then Setsuka grabbed the handle of her umbrella and before either of the gangsters could react both of them were lying dead on the ground, their throats cut.

"It's the laido style!" The remaining Yakuza shouted in sudden fear. "Boss, she has a laito lai blade!" Before the man could say anything else, Setsuka took two quick strides over to him, and unsheathed the slim, elegant blade from its hidden place inside her umbrella, slit the man's jugular with it, and sheathed it once more, all in the blink of an eye.

Not wasting any time, Setsuka moved swiftly into the back rooms of the Yakuza hideout, making her way through several empty rooms before finally arriving at the ornate chamber that could only be the room of a Yakuza gang boss. Setsuka entered the chamber then immediately whipped out her sword and deflected a throwing star that had been aimed at her head. She spun to face the Yakuza boss and he threw three more of the projectiles in rapid succession. Setsuka's blade sent them all flying off course, and in desperation her enemy grabbed a katana from off a nearby wall and charged at her, the weapon raised high over his head. Setsuka sheathed her laito lai blade and waited until the last possible instant, then out whipped out the sword once more and made three precise cuts on the Yakuza's arms and stomach. The gang boss dropped the katana and fell to the ground with a scream, blood pouring out of his wounds.

Setsuka planted a sandaled foot on the Yakuza's chest to keep him from moving then spoke. "Ryu Kurosawa. You've been a difficult man to find."

"What do you want from me?" Ryu spat. He groaned in pain and clutched at Setsuka's bare, outstretched leg which was keeping him planted to the floor, but she immediately snatched the Yakuza's hand and broke one of his fingers without a moment's hesitation.

"Tell me where I can find Heishiro Mitsurugi," Setsuka commanded, her voice devoid of emotion. The only indication as to her intentions was a slight hardening of her eyes. But Ryu, who had become quite familiar with this kind of expression, knew exactly what it meant.

"You want to kill that man? Mitsurugi?" Ryu laughed despite the unbearable pain he felt. "I'll tell you, gaijin, but you have no idea what you're doing."

"I'm waiting," Setsuka said.

"Alright… He left from this port less than a week ago. Said he was heading to dangerous lands. Trying to find the ultimate warrior… I remember him saying that clearly. His ship was bound for Korea. That's everything I know." Ryu found himself feeling very surprised as Setsuka released him from her crushing hold.

"Farewell then," She said simply as she turned to leave the Yakuza boss bleeding on the wooden floor.

"Aren't you going to kill me?" Ryu asked.

Setsuka looked back at the man and smiled mirthlessly. "The wounds from my blade will kill you within the day."

"You won't get out of here alive, gaijin!" Ryu shouted. "My men see everything in this town! There will be twenty Yakuza waiting for you!"

"Good," Setsuka said. "I will soon hunt much more difficult prey than mob bosses, and my blade needs practice."

Without another word to Ryu she left the dying man and returned to the entrance of the fish shop, then exited through the front door and found herself facing more than twenty men strong, all dressed in black and red and equipped with a variety of deadly weapons. Setsuka gripped her hidden blade's hilt, and then the streets of Osaka ran red with blood.

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Sitting alone atop a peaceful hill in the countryside of India, Kilik prostrated himself before a life-size statue of the Buddha, who stood at the very top of the grassy hill with a permanently joyful expression on his stone face. For a full hour all was motionless on the hill save the gentle swaying the breeze caused as in the yellow grass it blew through. At length Kilik rose and picked up his holy red bow-staff, Kali-Yuga, then surveyed the distant horizon. Soon it would be time for Xianghua to come riding back over, bringing back with her the supplies that would get them through the next week as well as the unbearable memories that invaded Kilik's mind every time he looked her in the eyes.

The same futile hope that overcame Kilik whenever Xianghua was away took hold of his thoughts once again; the hope that she would realize the foolishness of following a man who could never return her feelings, the foolishness of following a man with a death wish. The hope that she would leave and seek a life for herself, one filled with happiness and peace rather than pain and the same inevitable end that awaited all who followed Kilik's path.

Yet as always Kilik's wild daydreams were in vain, for at that precise moment a small brown dot appeared on the horizon and Kilik sighed wearily before resigning himself to facing away from his returning companion so as to appear as if he did not even notice her approach. As he stood straight and erect with his shirt crumpled up in a ball on the ground next to him, Kilik looked to be the very definition of physical perfection. The muscles on his chest, arms, and stomach were large and defined but not quite at the point of bulging, and it seemed as though his body did not contain even an ounce of fat. He had long dark hair that fell past his ears and hawkish, ever-alert eyes which peered out from his thin, chiseled face.

Yet for all his physical fitness, Kilik's mind was barely under his control. Any who conversed with him always regarded him as a wise, knowledgeable and above all in control of himself, and that much was true. "But," Kilik thought as he gazed longingly at a flock of birds flying far above him, "Deep inside, am I any different than I was the night that the Evil Seed fell?"

Kilik suddenly felt a strong desire to turn around and check on Xianghua's progress but he restrained himself, instead focusing on the smiling Buddha before him and trying to will himself into being more like the cheerful stone man. At length Kilik heard the sound of galloping hooves and he sighed, although whether it was in relief or despair he did not know. Then he noticed that the steps of Xianghua's horse were sounding a little too quickly, and seconds later he heard a second set of hooves beating against the hard dirt. Kilik spun around just in time to see Xianghua, who was now at the very bottom of the hill, be knocked from atop her horse by a dark figure dressed all in white who rode atop a great white warhorse. The figure raised a scythe above his head and drove it down at Xianghua, who just barely blocked it with her own weapon as she stumbled and fell to the ground against the pitiless blow.

Kilik did not waste another second. "Xianghua!" He shouted, taking his bow-staff in hand and dashing down to engage his unexpected new foe.

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Thanks to everyone who reviewed the first chapter or sent me a pm, your words are appreciated and I hope you keep the feedback up! Chapter 3 coming soon!

By the way Toran; Ice Cube be takin' da' mutha' fuckin' stand in da court of NWA, ya dig?


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